


Watch Me Burn

by Pandsiper



Series: Gun Barrel Blues [2]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen, Sad, Sibling Love, all the feels, not in that way get your mind out of the gutter you weirdo beardo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-09 01:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandsiper/pseuds/Pandsiper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second installment of Gun Barrel Blues; This is the story of Casey Orre, the BLU Team Pyro. Overlaps in places with Follow Me Down, so reading both fills in some of the confusing spots later on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gunshot Dial Tone

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is a tad short, but it's mostly to set things up.
> 
>  
> 
> The Worry List - Blue October

**Pyro**

 

“Hi mom.”

 

“I'm doing pretty good. How are things there?”

 

“That's good to hear.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Nah, just been busy.”

 

“No, not killing people. I mean, I- I do that too but-”

 

“Mom, calm down.”

 

“Even if I was home the only difference would be that I was killing people there! And I get paid better for it here.”

 

“Oh, don't be that way, it _is_ about the money. It has _always_ been about the money.”

 

“Look, if I didn't get some kind of merc job you know Dad would've kicked me out.”

 

“He wouldn't dare have a non-killer son and you know it.”

 

“No Mom, I'm not going to come home just because he's dead.”

 

“You think I _want_ to be here? I don't want to be out here in this blistering heat killing the same people over and over again-”

 

“Yes, the same people... It's hard to explain.”

 

“No, you don't need to be worried.”

 

“Mom, please. I'm fine.”

 

“No, please... stop crying... Mom?”

 

“Put Adabelle on the phone, please.”

 

“Just put her on the phone.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Hey there little sister!”

 

“Oh you know me, I'm doing great. I just miss my favorite little dancer.”

 

“How have your recitals been going?”

 

“That's great, Ada! Look, I'm coming home for Thanksgiving, are you going to have one around then that I can come to?”

 

“Oh... well that just means you can give me a private performance, right?”

 

“Good. You're too pretty for all those audiences anyway.”

 

“What?”

 

“What's happening?”

 

“Adabelle, who's in the house?”

 

“Hide! Ada, keep me on the phone and go hide! Be quiet, okay?”

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Stay in your bedroom, okay?”

 

“What did they do?”

 

“Mom? Where did they take her?”

 

“Outside? ...No, Adabelle do not look out the window. DO NOT-”

 

“What?”

 

“They shot... Mom?”

 

“Adabelle, calm down, stay in your bedroom.”

 

“No, it'll be okay.”

 

“I'm still here, Ada. Big Brother's not going anywhere.”

 

“I know, sweetheart.”

 

“Mom's in a better place now. Now she doesn't have to worry about us.”

 

“She's with Dad, now.”

 

“Don't leave the house until you're sure they're gone.”

 

“Call 911 to pick Mom up. Just tell them it's the Orre residence. They know the address. Call the funeral home when you can. I'll send some extra money, alright? And get out of that house when things are taken care of. I don't want you to stay there. Pick out any house you'd like in one of the nice neighborhoods and it's yours. And when I get out of this war, it'll be _ours_.”

 

“I'm so sorry sweetheart. I'll be home as soon as I can get out of here.”

 

“I'll be home in time for the funeral.”

 

“Are they gone?”

 

“You're sure they were from the other gang?”

 

“Be careful out there. They won't come for you, but don't go out too much anyway.”

 

“You know how to get to the dance studio, right?”

 

“And Mom had been teaching you to drive?”

 

“Drive when you can. But if you have to walk, take Dad's gun, okay? It should be in the lock-box under the bed. There should be some money there, too. The key is in Mom's jewelry box. In fact, just take the gun with you no matter what. Don't leave the house without it.”

 

“Do you remember how to do the funeral home paperwork from when Dad died?”

 

“It'll be the same for Mom. Just put me down as the next-of-kin.”

 

“Alright. Listen, baby girl. I've got to go.”

 

“I'll call you when I can.”

 

“Adabelle, it'll be okay. I promise.”

 

“Stay strong, okay? You can do this. And you pick out your dream house, okay? One with lots of windows and a big porch like you always wanted. I'll help you move in when I come home.”

 

“I love you, little sister.”

 

“Smile for your brother once in a while.”

 

“Bye, sweetheart.”

 

I hung the phone back on the receiver. For the first time since God knows when, I'm crying. And I have been since I heard the gunshot through my mother's head and my little sister cry out in her bedroom through the crackling phone speaker.

 

Two days later I received a yellow envelope with red letters. 'Ms. Orre died to a gunshot wound to the head outside her estate.' And I got a letter from Adabelle about a week later. 'They're holding Mom's body until you can get here. Please hurry. I miss you, Casey. I found the perfect house for us. Do you think you'll be home for my 16th birthday? I hope so. Be careful out there, Big Brother. It's lonely here, now. But don't worry about me. I love you. Love, Ada' and right then my heart broke. Right when I heard Engie read those last few lines to me. He handed the letter back to me.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“No problem, Casey.”

 

“Hey Engie? ...Thomas?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Could you teach me to read?”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

“I want to read Adabelle's letters myself.”


	2. Stranger Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kickin' the story off fo' real.
> 
> Strange Times - The Black Keys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters for Watch Me Burn likely won't be as long as parts of FMD. Just FYI.

Engineer promised he would give me reading lessons soon. But lately we'd had some rough weeks and all his free time was taken up with working on his projects. He said he had something for me. A new weapon. Most of the team claims they “make” their own weapons, outside the standard issued guns. But honestly what usually happens is they'll get an idea for a new weapon and tell Engie to build it. Sometimes Engie sees a recurring problem and builds a weapon or something to fix it, himself. Like Solly always getting hurt from rocket jumping. Engie made him special boots that keep the explosions from hurting his legs too much.

 

I love the Engineer.

 

Not really in a deep, meaningful, romantic way. Not quite. But more of a respectful, admiring, bromance sort of way. I loved that he could fend off the entire enemy team with just a sentry. Well, the entire enemy team sans one Spy. So I take care of him. The Spy that is. I take care of- get rid of... Well I guess I take care of the Engineer too... by taking care of the Spy...oh you know what I mean.

 

Anyway, I love the Engineer's ingenuity. Enginuity, you might say.

 

That was awful of me. I apologize.

 

So now, as I perch on a catwalk just above the nest Engineer had set up, I watch closely, blowing puffs of fire onto the sentry and dispenser and teleporter. Engineer was likely off retrieving scrap metal or aiding in the fight. Used to, he wouldn't leave his nest for anything. But he knows I've got him covered. If he sets up a full nest, which isn't as often as I'd admittedly like, I only leave once I've told him. Never would I leave the nest unguarded. The RED Spy is too good.

 

Speak of the devil.

 

Spook of the devil?

 

I have to stop making horrible puns.

 

A tiny glimmer caught my eye. Just the slightest shift in the atmosphere. Like that odd shimmer that waves off the tops of cars when it's really hot out. Which, out here in Teufort, is always. And I knew instantly who it was.

 

I drop down from the catwalk, fire already lapping out, catching the Spy's sleeve and setting the rest of his suit ablaze quickly.

 

“AUGH! You mute monster!” He yelled, “Fire, fire, FIRE!” Always he called for his Medic. But he should know, docs won't leave their Heavies for a Spy. That's silly. And why does he call me mute? He knows I can speak. He just can't understand me. He calls me lots of names, but 'mute' is the only one that ever really stings. Just because nobody but Engineer can understand me in my suit doesn't mean I can't speak otherwise.

 

Though, I've never shown anyone otherwise, I suppose.

 

The Spy's body slumped over far too quickly. Another quick slice through the air lit up his cloaked form. He cursed more, and this time his body stayed down. I hate when he uses his Dead Singer, or whatever it was called. Just that much more fuel I have to use up on his scrawny spook-ass self. Nothing a quick stay at the now-safe dispenser couldn't fix, though. I decided to sit on top of it to reap the benefits from a good vantage point, my flare gun out now to catch any stray BLUs who came by. Not that the sentry wouldn't get 'em.

 

By this point, Engie was running back towards the nest, an arrow jabbed in his good arm, and panting like a sweaty dog.

 

“Muph mmphay?” _(You okay?)_

 

“Yeah, hoss. I'm alright.”

 

Engie understood me through my suit most of the time and that made me happier than he'd ever know, I'm sure. He yanked the arrow from his arm like it was nothing and sat down next to the dispenser, the look of strain and pain slowly leaving his creased forehead.

 

“Yer doing a mighty fine job, friend. I do appreciate how well you take of things for me. Means I get to be more helpful on the frontline.”

 

“Mmphms mph mphesmphr mm mmph mumph.” _(Always my pleasure to help you.)_ Not sure if he understood all of that, but he smiled and seemed pleased enough, so I suppose it works out.

 

“Hey, suppose ya come by the workshop after dinner tonight, huh hoss? We'll have a couple beers, play some cards or somethin'. I'll show you what I'm workin' on for ya.”

 

“Mmph mphh!” _(Sure thing!)_ I shot him a thumbs up, and just then, a pipe bomb landed with a _'thunk'_ on my chest and blew up. The recoil knocked me off the dispenser, but I was up in time to deflect the next one back to the RED Demoman's bootie'd feet. He looked really dumb with those on.

 

If the Spy wasn't on the nest, the Demo was. And to an extent, he was more dangerous than the suited spook. I knocked the stickies back and he promptly switched to his sword. Shit. Next thing I know, I hear a drunken scream and then...

 

...back at respawn. Fuck. Engie's nest isn't covered. I ran back just in time to see the Demo finish off the teleporter. I caught a glimpse of Engie, already bolted off, toolbox in hand, to set up camp elsewhere. I took off after him, spurting fire occasionally to ward off any followers.

 

When I caught up to him, he'd set up his sentry and was hitting it with his wrench. How that ever upgraded the thing, I'll never understand. But I choose not to ask.

 

“Mph muhmphuh, mmphuh.” _(I'm sorry, Engie.)_

 

“Nah, it's alright, buddy. That nest hadn't moved all day. S'bout time I picked a fresh spot.” He grinned at me.

 

That made me smile, not that he could see it.

 

“Still on for tonight?”

 

“Mph!” _(Yes!)_ Another thumbs up.

 

Today is a Friday. That means staying up late and sleeping in and going into town and having a couple days of possible solitude. I'll certainly be lighting a few campfires this weekend. But tonight! Tonight I'm going to hang out with Engineer!

 

Once we got back to the base, everybody left for the showers. Except me. The team sometimes makes a fuss about never seeing what I look like. Honestly, it's no secret. I just like the way Scout and sometimes the others will try to bribe or threaten or beat me out of my suit. All they have to do is ask nicely. But that's a burdensome task for these men.

 

While the rest of the team was off bathing, I made my way through our base, out the back door and to my little wood shed. Everyone had rooms on the base. Even me. But my room was a prison cell to me. Only one window, and quite a long walk to reach the outdoors. So I moved out to the shed in the back of the base. Solly was even nice enough to bring me an old oil barrel, long emptied and tossed away. I remember when he showed up with it, after the fighting was through on one very cold winter evening. _'Good evening, soldier,'_ he'd said with a salute, _'Good work out there today. I found this and thought you could use it to make a bonfire to keep warm since you won't come inside. I'm in full support of roughing it in the cold like a man, but... ah, between you and me,'_ he leaned in close and I thought he was going to whisper. Instead, he yelled, _'It's colder than all shit out here!'_ He smiled at me, a rare occurrence, gave me another salute, and then marched off back to the base. I haven't had a cold night since. But I swear my ears are still ringing.

 

The barrel now sat by the door to the shed, ashes piled in the bottom. A warm summer night like this, I won't need a fire. But that doesn't mean I won't start one anyways. But right now, I wanted to get ready for the showers. You couldn't guess, but something so simple for most is actually quite complicated for me.

 

I shut the door of the shed behind me and kick my boots off at the door. Beginning to peel off the gloves and heat suit, I am reminded, as I am every day, that I really need to invest in some sort of cooling system for my suit. I wore a thin body suit beneath the fire suit, but the sweat from the heat makes everything stick to me regardless. I took the helmet off after the suit, ruffled the sweat from my hair, and then took the under-armor suit off as well. Stark nude and enjoying the cool air in the shed, I jog around the room a bit, cooling myself down some. Then, I grabbed my robe off the wall hook, wrapped it around me and tied it off, and, much to my dismay, put my mask back on. It was sticky and stuffy inside, but I was well used to it.

 

By this point, the others were likely about done bathing, so I threw on my bath flip flops and stepped out of the shed, shutting the door behind me. As expected, I arrive at the showers just in time to hear the echoes of feet leaving. The steam hadn't even settled or the shower heads ceased dripping since the last one out, likely the Spy. Doing it this way always guaranteed me a warm start to my shower, since the water hadn't settled in the pipes long enough to get cold.

 

I took a long, hot shower. It felt good to clean off the day's sweat. My thoughts drifted to Adabelle, as they always do when I don't preoccupy my mind. My little sister is just shy of 16 and she's the only family I have left. We look just like each other, and act similar, too. But I'm a killer. She's a dancer. She's been taking ballet classes since she was able to stand.

 

I love her.

 

More than anything, I love her. Damn those fucking assholes who killed our mother, Ivory. Our father, Tullon. Our brothers, Jacob and Darius and our sisters, Marilynn and Katerina. My friends from the streets and Ada's friends from school. People she loved and people she cried for. People who weren't even connected. People who didn't need to die. All because me being here helped me give my family an upper hand. My family exiles me for not being an asset and then my assets get them killed. I have caused my little sister so much pain and still she looks at me like I hung the moon. Fuck me for being the oldest of my family. Fuck those gangs. Fuck Blutarch and Redmond. Fuck this war! Fuck it all!

 

I find myself leaning on the side of the shower stall, panting heavily and choking back sobs. I crank the cold knob off and the hot knob all the way on. Tilting my head back, I lean into the steamy water and let myself boil in liquid fire. The heat is familiar and pleasant and I crave it, even as it turns my skin to raw pink stiffness and makes my muscles ache.

 

When I've calmed myself down, I turn the cold water all the on and the hot completely off and I let the icy shower wash the heat from my chest and back and stomach, down my arms and legs and over my tired feet. While the hot water was pleasing and calming, I needed the cold to wake me up and remind me I still have to live a while longer.

 

I made my way back to my shed and threw on a standard issue casual jumpsuit. It was made to look just like my fighting jumpsuit, but it was made of regular old cotton and stuff rather than asbestos. I'm currently waiting for my monthly medical test results to see if I've gotten cancer from that god-forsaken suit yet. It's only a matter of time. Engie had seen me out of my suit plenty of times. He was the only one who once said to me, _“Pardner, might I be so bold as to ask what you're hidin' in that suit?”_ And so I took off my mask and told him _'not a thing at all'_ and since then I'd always come to him in casual clothes. I pulled the hood of the jumpsuit on and tucked my hands in my pockets and skirted around the desert for a while, lost in my thoughts.

 

Eventually, I found my way to Engie's workshop. He led me to the back room where he kept all his special projects he didn't want Scout or Solly or Demo to get their destructive hands on.

 

“Ready to see it, Casey?” He motioned to a small thing covered by a sheet on a table.

 

“My new weapon? Of course!” I smiled at him.

 

He drew the sheet up, and there on the table was a small gun. It was gray and had some nice orange detailing on the muzzle. “Is that a flare gun?”

 

“Not _just_ a flare gun, my friend! Its flares are special. They explode with enough force to knock back their target _and_ light anybody nearby on fire as well! Now you can light whole groups of enemies on fire all at once!”

 

“No kidding?” I picked up the little gun and tested the weight and feel of it. It was fairly heavy for being a handgun, but it felt nice and in it, against its trigger, I felt power. Truly good weapons always feel like this. Like they're telling you _'between the two of us, we can conquer anything.'_ “Thomas, it looks great! It _feels_ amazing! You have outdone yourself, my friend.”

 

“I'm glad you like it. You'll tell me how it shoots next week so I can work out any kinks, right?”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

“Oh, I've been workin' on your flamethrower, too.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Tryin' to give it some more _umph._ You gotta stick around enemies too long as it is to make sure they're done in. We need ya to puff a minute and leave with the job done. Problem is, I don't know your gun like you do. I was hopin' you might help me out.”

 

“Of course!”

 

He cracked open a beer for each of us and we talked while we worked. After about three hours, we'd downed two six-packs, shared a lot of laughs, gotten filthy with oil and grime, and were stuck with one very un-finished flamethrower. Engie was reduced to letting his overalls hang off him unhooked and he had taken his hardhat and goggles off a long time ago.

 

“Hey, Hardat?” Scout's voice called through the workshop. We looked at each other with weird expressions that were slightly drunk, silly, and agitated all at once.

 

“Engie, where ya at? I need some solid advice, man.” Scout? Advice?

 

“Well, I ought to see what he needs.” Engie winked at me and called over his shoulder, “Just a minute, pardner. I'm comin'.”

 

“Don't let him break anything, Thomas.” I smiled at him.

 

“I doubt he's here to cause much trouble. Sounds like he might be in some himself.”

 

And so Engie walked out the door. I tried to lean against the door to listen, but I couldn't make out any words. Only mumbling. Pretty soon, Engie was back.

 

“What did he want?”

 

“Romance advice.” Engie looked at me quizzically, like he couldn't really believe it himself.

 

“Romance? I didn't know Scout had a girlfriend.”

 

“He doesn't.”

 

“What, he's trying to woo a girl over the phone or something?” I chuckled to myself at the thought of Scout giving some poor girl terribly exaggerated and wholly untrue descriptions of his oh-so-masculine body over the phone.

 

“Nope.”

 

Well now I was baffled. “Then what's he up to?”

 

“If my hunch is correct, and I'm pretty sure it is, he's got a thing for Wil.” He wiped his hands on a rag.

 

“ _Sniper?_ ”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Hmm.” Somehow this didn't come as too much of a surprise to me. I've known they were close for a while. They usually sat together at meals and played cards together a lot. They made a great team on the field, too. So honestly, I'm more surprised I didn't see it coming sooner. I guess what got me was Scout being the one to ask for advice. I'd never expected him to be gay. I'd suspect Sniper of it long before Scout, at least. “What was the problem?”

 

“They got in an argument I think. He said he touched on a sore subject with him. Probably Wil's old girlfriend. Sniper told me once that his girl had gotten attacked and killed by a crocodile while they were out on the river together. He was getting' ready to propose to her. Had the ring in his pocket and everything. Then _SNAP._ She was under the water. Terrible thing. My guess is Scout didn't know about it and tried to talk about Wil's past without thinking he might not wanna talk about it.”

 

“Wil had a girlfriend? But he throws _pee_ at people.”

 

“I ain't here to judge. Maybe she had a thing for it.”

 

We just sort of stared at each other for a moment. Then we burst into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the beginning of the calm before the storm.


End file.
